


The Sound of Your Name

by caleyedoscope



Series: Faerlamore [2]
Category: DBSK, Dong Bang Shin Ki, TVXQ!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleyedoscope/pseuds/caleyedoscope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaejoong has his hands full when Yunho gets raised in rank, and Changmin starts to waste away and not eat. The Faerlamore saves a child roaming in the streets and through all of this, wonders how to tell Yunho he’s broken the most important rule of being a Faerlamore: never falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> D/S, master/slave relationships and things that inevitably follow those

The sound of a gong stills Jaejoong’s hand as he taste tests a spoonful of broth. It’s far too salty. “Fix it,” he orders the cook, heart suddenly pounding, and only just manages to dish out a steely look. “I’ve taught you better than that.”

The gong sounds again and Jaejoong turns on his heel and races out of the kitchen, heedless of all the servants he nearly plows over and comes to a halt in the grand entrance of the mansion just as the door swings open.

His master sweeps through it, eyes meeting Jaejoong’s immediately and making his stomach curl with warmth as they both smile. Two weeks. Two very long and excruciating weeks of his master being in a foreign country, and finally, _finally_ he’s returned.

“Welcome home, Master.” Jaejoong wants to thread his fingers into his master’s hair and press up against him as he yanks his head down for a kiss. But there are servants and other slaves watching them and Jaejoong isn’t allowed to touch without permission. He doesn’t want to force his master into a reprimand.

His master smiles, reaching out to grasp Jaejoong’s hand and kiss his cheek lightly, “Thank you, Jaejoong. It’s good to be back, I’ve missed you.”

It’s strange, that even after two year of living under the same roof, his master can make him blush with just a sentence.

“I missed _you_ , Master.”

“Come, give me the cliff notes, we can go into details later.”

He wraps an arm around Jaejoong’s waist and pulls him close. Jaejoong very nearly whimpers his master’s name at the contact, purely out of his overwhelming _need_ for the man, but he keeps his lips firmly pressed together. While in the presence of other people, Jaejoong refers to his master as _Master_ , in mind and speech so as to not make an error. It is only in the safety of their bedroom that he is allowed to whisper Master’s name. 

There had been once, within his first few months here, that Jaejoong had accidentally saidd his master’s name within hearing of an important guest. His master had tried to excuse him, but the guest had been appalled, and so forced Master into punishing Jaejoong publicly for his mistake.

It had hurt. Terribly. There’s a large difference between Master warming his bottom in a sexy manner while in the bedroom and…that. That punishment. Master hasn’t had to do it again and Jaejoong is hell bent on keeping it that way.

Of course, the apology afterwards had been exceedingly wonderful but Jaejoong is very careful with his words, now. He’d rather have the apology without the pain.

“Jaejoong-ah. Cliff notes.”

“Sorry, Master.” There’s not too much to tell. Jaejoong had managed the influx of merchandise as well as sales, and kept concise yet accurate notes that his master can go over later. The household had functioned normally, for the most part, and perhaps the first pressing matter concerned Changmin.

“He’s sad, but he won’t tell me why. I caught him sobbing into a pillow one night and he tried to just brush it off, but I’ve never seen him so upset and I’m worried.”

“Of course you are,” his master says. He plants a kiss to Jaejoong’s temple and Jaejoong nearly faints from the need to press him up against a wall. “I’ll talk to him. What else?”

“Sunyoung’s mother fell ill so I gave her some medicine and a few days off so she could tend to her. And one of the stable boys broke his foot so I hired a someone temporary to help until he’s back on his feet.”

“How did he manage to do that?”

They’re almost to his master’s bedroom and Jaejoong’s body is thrumming with anticipation.

“He tried to ride my horse on a dare and she threw him. I figured a broken bone was punishment enough so I let it go.”

“So it is,” Master agrees. His fingers are rubbing idly at Jaejoong’s hip. He’s just as needy as Jaejoong, and knowing that makes Jaejoong unable to breathe for a moment.

“And I had to fire a serving girl. The one you hired last month?”

“Why? I thought she was doing well.”

Jaejoong pouts. “You only liked her because she snuck you treats.”

“I shared them.”

Gods, but Jaejoong wants to hit him.

“What happened?”

“She was stealing coin from the other servants. And she had a stash of silverware and trinkets in her room when I searched it. She wouldn’t tell me why when I asked. Her family’s well off, she doesn’t have any relatives or friends that are sick, so I told her to leave.”

“That’s too bad,” His master murmurs, and he looks genuinely upset about it. “Though I know you must’ve noticed the missing silverware. I imagine you’re glad to have it back.”

“Yes, master,” Jaejoong murmurs, and then they’re at their rooms and through the door, mouths fused together as soon as the lock is in place. “ _Yunho_ ,” Jaejoong murmurs, when they need to break for air.

Yunho loves hearing his name. Jaejoong’s not sure what it is, but whether Jaejoong whispers it or screams it, the sounds reduce Yunho to a blubbering mess of desire. Perhaps that’s why Jaejoong loves saying it.

They don’t have all the time in the world. There are affairs that need to be sorted and it’s still the middle of the day, but they have a few minutes, perhaps. Enough time to kiss and touch and remember the feeling of one another’s bodies.

“I missed you so much,” Yunho breathes into Jaejoong’s ear, as Jaejoong laves at his throat, heedless of the taste of travel on his skin, biting gently at his ear until he gasps.

“Me or my mouth?”

Yunho gives Jaejoong’s ass a half hearted whack, but all it does is press their cocks together and make them both moan. “You’re terrible,” Yunho tells him, trying to get a hand into Jaejoong’s clothing.

“No time for that and you know it.”

“Don’t care. Two weeks, Jaejoong. Two whole weeks, I thought I was going to die.”

“Jung Yunho, get your hand off of my cock we don’t have time for this now.”

Jaejoong blinks when Yunho does as he’s told, a strange look coming into his eyes as his hand pulls away so fast it almost gets caught. Interesting, Jaejoong muses, especially when he notices Yunho’s faint blush.

He’s leaning back in for more of Jaejoong’s mouth though, and the little tidbit of information is filed away for later. But before their lips touch, the gong sounds again and Yunho groans. “I’m already home! They can stop.”

“I don’t think that’s for you, Yunho,” Jaejoong says. His stomach has dropped because _shit_ it can only mean one other person and that’s really, really not—

“Yoochun,” Yunho says, realization hitting him at the same time and they take a second to straighten their clothing before dashing out of the room. 

They do not make it to the door before the Crown Prince (who will soon be crowned King, due to his very ailing father,) and he has a smirk on his face when they both bow breathlessly, Jaejoong a little lower and little longer than his master.

“I’m sorry, I know you just got home.”

The Prince accepts Master’s hug with ease, and Jaejoong looks behind them until he sees Junsu, the Prince’s Faerlamore with Seungho, the royal grandson clinging to his hand and looking only half awake. Junsu smiles at Jaejoong and nudges the young prince until he catches sight of the Faerlamore. Seungho’s now four and grown a lot since the first time they’d met, but his fascination with Jaejoong isn’t any less diminished and Seungho throws himself at Jaejoong, demanding a hug and food.

“Something’s come up,” the Prince says, loud enough for them all to hear. “I knew you’d be back today so I took a chance and decided to visit. Can we talk?”

Jaejoong gives his master a nod (“I’ve got things under control here,”) and a gentle squeeze of his fingers. They’d developed a language between the two of them. His Master squeezes Jaejoong’s fingers whenever he asks Jaejoong to do something and if Jaejoong is really okay with it, he squeezes back. It’s saved Jaejoong from having to do a lot of things he’d rather not, since he cannot disobey or voice his displeasure in front of anyone. So Master walks off towards the a more private room without a second glance, the Prince following closely behind.

“How are you?” Jaejoong asks Junsu, accepting his hug before hefting a whining Seungho up into his arms. “You’re so big, my Prince, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold you like this.”

Thankfully, Jaejoong is allowed to use Seungho’s name, though he rarely does in public. Once he becomes Crown Prince, however, that will have to stop.

“I’m fine,” Junsu replies, petting Seungho’s hair, “Miyoung’s health is really improving so she’s been spending a lot of time with Seungho and I’ve been able to get a lot more sleep than I used to be able to have. It’s nice.”

“Are you actually sleeping?“ Jaejoong asks, eyebrow arched.

Junsu laughs. “Most of the time. Miyoung also found someone else since her last lover—” The other Farelamore pulls a face. “Well, you know.”

Jaejoong remembers. It had happened almost immediately after Master had purchased him. The Princess’s caretaker had been blackmailed into trying to kill her, slipping poison into her medicine to wreck havoc in her already weak body. The Crown Prince had been furious once the man had finally been caught and had him exiled. He’d wanted to execute him, but the Princess had intervened, insisting that had he not been blackmailed, he wouldn’t have done it.

“I’m glad she has found someone. That’s really good. I hope he’s nicer than the last.”

“ _She_ is very, very nice,” Junsu corrects, a twinkle in his eyes, “and quite attractive, too, I might add. We’re thinking of joining them at some point. I’ve never heard Miyoung scream like that, not even with Yoochun.”

Jaejoong gapes, belatedly realizing Seungho is _right there_ and had heard everything. “Junsu!”

“Why did Mama scream?”

Junsu blushes. “Yoochun’s going to kill me. Seungho, you can’t tell your Appa about this, alright?”

Seungho frowns at him, and it’s decidedly royal. “I am not allowed to keep secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” Jaejoong assures him, “it’s simply private. It wasn’t something bad, it was something good. People scream if they’re really excited, sometimes. You screamed when you saw me just now, didn’t you?”

Seungho does not look convinced. “My Prince,” Jaejoong says, “you mustn’t tell your father. That is something between your mother and your father and…” he glances at Junsu.

“Taeyeon,” Junsu says, supplying the name of the princess’ new lover. “I know your father has talked to you about privacy, Seungho, multiple times. Not keeping secrets doesn’t mean you get to talk about everything you hear. This is a private matter that you must keep to yourself and let the parties involved sort out.”

“Is it because I’m young?” Seungho wrinkles his nose.

“Partly,” Jaejoong admits, “but mostly because it doesn’t concern you. People need to keep their lives private sometimes, my Prince, and this is one of those times. I don’t think your father is going to be very happy with you if you bring it up.”

That finally seems to do it. Every single subject in the kingdom is well aware that Seungho does not like to displease his father. 

“Fine,” Seungho nods. 

“When did you get so good at speaking?” Jaejoong asks, “You’re still so young.”

“Yoochun tutors his son personally in language. You know he takes these things seriously.”

“You’re only four,” Jaejoong mourns, but knows there’s nothing he can do about it. Seungho is a future king and his education began the moment he had been born. There isn’t a way around it.

They let Seungho play with an assortment of toys Jaejoong keeps in the mansion specifically for him. Ones that he can check and know will not cause the young Prince any harm. Jaejoong rings for tea and it’s only a matter of minutes before a serving girl brings up a tray. Jaejoong smiles at her, and then coos when he sees she added cookies. “Thank you, beautiful. Do me a favor and tell Cook we’ll be having royal guests for dinner.”

“Yes, Faerlamore. Will you want to see the menu?”

“I think I’d better. You may bring it up to me when it’s ready.”

She bows to both of them before leaving.

“You’ve got them well trained.”

Jaejoong snorts. “I suppose.”

He lets Junsu put an arm around him and he curls into the other Faerlamore easily, head on his lap. Junsu’s friendship is something Jaejoong cherishes, because he can be himself around Junsu and know that he can talk to Junsu about anything and not be judged. He can say anything and know for sure he’ll not get in trouble over it. After his Master, Junsu’s the only person Jaejoong fully trusts.

“So how are you?” Junsu asks, “actually, I bet you’re much happier now that Yunho’s back. You looked like a ghost the last time I saw you.”

“Master was gone for two weeks. I nearly died.”

“You can call him Yunho around me, Jaejoong, I’m not going to tell anyone that would get you into trouble over it. Not even Yoochun would care.”

Jaejoong eyes the door, frowning. There’s always someone listening, especially if it had to do with royals. He can only shake his head. “It’s fine.”

Junsu frowns at him. “You know, that’s why Yoochun’s here. We found out who was behind the blackmailing. A council member. Yoochun’s executing him tomorrow and he wants Yunho to take the man’s council seat.”

Jaejoong bolts up from Junsu’s lap, nearly toppling onto the floor. A council member. His master as a member of Yoochun’s inner council. It would be a serious life upgrade, for the entire household.

“Assuming he accepts, you will be able to call him Yunho in front of whomever you like and no one will be able to do anything about it. Jaejoong, you look petrified, I thought you wanted that?”

“I do. I do, but gods, Junsu, that’s not important! A council member is huge that’s…I have to talk to him. I have to go down there. He’s always wanted this. He wants this so badly, he’d better not screw it up with some weird self righteous bull--” 

“You won’t say his name but you’ll say all of that?” Junsu asks, eyebrows raised.

Jaejoong slaps a hand over his mouth. Gods, he will never learn. He will never be able to control his stupid brain.

“I won’t tell,” Junsu promises, twinkle in his eyes, “and you don’t have to worry because Yoochun isn’t going to allow him to refuse. Lay back down, you need to relax, Jaejoong.”

He doesn’t think he can relax, not now, but Junsu’s hands land in his hair and they’re heaven, enough to nearly lull him to sleep. It hasn’t been easy for his Master, with both his parents gone and having to take control of the markets at such a young age. He doesn’t have prestige because he holds very little weight in the council. The Prince can only speak for him so much before it would look like favoritism, so it’s difficult for him to be as effective as he’d like.

But this. This would mean everything. This would mean decisions without red tape. This would mean power to better control the gangs. This would mean more money to help those that needed it most, which is perhaps what his Master wants more than anything.

Being able to call him by his name is simply the icing on the cake.

There’s a knock on the door and Jaejoong sits up quickly. “Enter.”

It’s the maid again, a menu carefully written out on the paper and Jaejoong inspects it. He smiles at the end, noting a few of Seungho’s favorite dishes had been added. Jaejoong _has_ taught the staff well. “What do you think?” he asks Junsu, “I’m willing to approve it if you are.”

Junsu doesn’t even glance at it. “I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you, darling,” he tells the girl, with a grin.

She blushes and Jaejoong shoos her away. “I’ll be down to taste everything before dinner.”

“Yes, Faerlamore. I’ll tell Cook.”

She’s come a long way since he’d first met her, Jaejoong thinks appreciatively. Certainly a long way from not being able to discern spoiled food. 

“How did you even know Yoochun intended to stay for dinner?” Junsu asks, once the door shuts, “He didn’t say anything.”

“The Prince had a look in his eye,” Jaejoong smiles. 

“He always has a look in his eye. I’m surprised you can tell what that one meant.”

Jaejoong laughs, settling back down on Junsu’s lap easily, happy to be touched. “When they walk in through that door, I’m not taking any crap from Yunho about having my hands on you,” Junsu says, threading his hands back into Jaejoong’s hair.

“Master won’t mind. He knows that I am his to do with as he pleases.”

There’s a low chuckle that rumbles out of Junsu’s mouth that Jaejoong’s pretty sure is only supposed to be heard by the Prince. “Really, now? Then maybe you two can join us instead of Miyoung. I wouldn’t mind, and I don’t think Yoochun would either.”

His fingers trail down Jaejoong’s spine, and then back up. The tips catch at the cloth swooping across the back of Jaejoong’s neck and it’s eased down over Jaejoong’s skin. He knows what Junsu’s hoping to see there.

“I am Master’s. I don’t want to share.”

“I can see that. Did Yunho design this ink?”

“We both did. Master had it done before he left.”

A tattoo is a permanent sign of ownership and something only Faerlamores are permitted to have. Jaejoong knows Junsu has one on his lower back the Prince had put there almost as soon as Junsu had been old enough for the law to permit it. He’s also put one around Junsu’s ankle after the Prince had gotten married, a promise of sorts that he would not forget his Faerlamore despite his duty to produce an heir.

“You’re going to have to share him at some point, Jaejoong. Yunho is going to need to sire an heir, especially now that he’s a part of the council.”

“I know that.”

“So join us. Get the irritation over with now.”

“No, thank you. One other person having him is too many already.”

“He’ll give you another tattoo,” Junsu continues, fingers brushing lightly against the ink, and the pattern suggests he’s tracing the wings of words curling around the shoulder blades.

“I’d rather have his teeth and his tongue marking me than ink and needles.”

“I understand that, but it still means something important. We Faerlamores are to be taken seriously. We are extensions of our Master’s bodies, Jaejoong, and anyone that doesn’t take that to heart is punished. I know you’ve been told this.”

Jaejoong’s heard stories Junsu is subtly referencing. The Prince is not quiet about how he punishes those that are disrespectful to his Faerlamore and Jaejoong thinks of one, particular man that was executed for trying to force Junsu into his bed, thinking him some sort of common whore. Master is perhaps just as fiercely protective, but it doesn’t make sharing him any easier.

“I know. But I don’t want to think about it before I must.” Because all that reminds him of is that he is a slave with a fancy title that will never be allowed to love his master in the way he wants, or give his master what he truly needs. Jaejoong is a possession, a _thing_ , and does not have a say in important matters like heirs and wives.

Something warm and small lands on Jaejoong’s back, right where one of his wings is, and Jaejoong glances up to see Seungho smiling at him. “Pretty.” 

He has a block in his other hand that’s waving dangerously close to Jaejoong’s nose. Junsu catches it before Jaejoong can. “Careful, Seungho. Touch one thing at a time.” The block is placed on the ground and both hands are on Jaejoong’s back now, smoothing over skin and ink gently. “Do you like the ink?”

“Yes. Junsu has ink, too.”

“I do. Do you know why we both have it?”

Seungho blinks, looking at Jaejoong’s back and then up at Junsu. “Appa said it means…on. Onsip. On her sip.” He’s confused, his four-year-old brain trying to remember a big word he’d only heard once or twice. Jaejoong is about to open his mouth to help but a voice interjects before he can.

“Ownership, Seungho. But that’s only some of what I said, do you remember the rest?”

The Prince steps easily into the room, Master following behind him, a bit of a scowl on his face as he eyes Jaejoong’s exposed skin. Perhaps it’s also due to Junsu’s hand, which presses Jaejoong down when he tries to get up so he can bow.

Seungho hums to himself, his little fingers petting Jaejoong’s ink as he thinks. “No,” he finally admits, sounding sad that he cannot remember his father’s lesson.

“That’s fine, don’t be upset.” The Prince sits down crossed legged and gives Jaejoong a gentle smile as he gathers his son in his arms. “It’s a beautiful design, Yunho,” he murmurs, ghosting his fingertips across one of the wings.

“Pretty!” Seungho agrees, smiling. 

The Prince laughs. “Yes. When you see ink, it means that person is a part of someone else.”

“A part,” Seungho repeats determinedly.

“Jaejoong’s wings means he is a part of Yunho. It means that in everyone else’s eyes, Jaejoong is to be treated as though he were Yunho. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Seungho nods, totally serious. “That means Junsu is a part of appa. Junsu is also my appa and Junsu is also a prince.”

“Very good,” The Prince praises, and kisses his son’s cheek. “Jaejoong, I was hoping we could stay for dinner.”

Junsu snorts. “He already approved a menu, the sly bastard.”

“Junsu, what is with your mouth today!” Jaejoong explodes, before he can stop himself, finding it unbelievable that he could swear in front of— 

The Prince blinks at him, eyes narrowing with each passing second, and Jaejoong sits up quickly, hands slapping over his mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry, my Prince, I didn’t mean to—“

“What else has my Faerlamore said?” the Prince’s eyes narrow even further, “or was it something he _did_ with his mouth?”

The silence is perhaps damning by itself but Jaejoong feels his stomach sink when Seungho looks at him and mock whispers, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell!” He grins and Jaejoong’s not even sure what facial expression he’s shooting back. Junsu is toast and if Jaejoong has any amount of luck, he might be able to scrape out of this with his master only verbally reprimanding him.

“You won’t tell me what?” The Prince asks, turning to his son. “We’ve talked about keeping secrets, Park Seungho, do we need to have that discussion again?”

“It’s _private_ ,” Seungho insists, though he looks a little desperate. Jaejoong can only assume the “discussion” had not been something the young prince had at all enjoyed. “Jaejoong said private is different than secrets. Private means I don’t need to know.”

The Prince actually looks thoughtful at this and Jaejoong wonders if maybe he won’t have his head chopped off. That would be nice.

“Jaejoong is right,” the Prince finally nods, “but I think my Faerlamore and I will need to discuss the finer points of what you might have overheard.”

“Yes, Master,” Junsu replies serenely.

Jaejoong feels terrible for not being able to keep his mouth shut. He’s worse than Seungho. He cannot keep a secret. He tries to convey his remorse to Junsu through his expression, but to Jaejoong’s surprise, the other Faerlamore is smiling, and seductively, at that. _I don’t understand him_ , Jaejoong thinks, and resolves to apologize properly once their masters are not around.

Speaking of which, Jaejoong casts a look at his own Master, who holds out his hand for Jaejoong to join him. 

“Yoochun, Jaejoong needs to get to the kitchens.”

“That’s fine,” the Crown Prince says, “why don’t you take Seungho with you?”

“The kitchens are not place for a prince, Master,” Jaejoong says quietly. But Seungho’s already clinging to his legs eagerly, reaching for his hand, and Jaejoong can’t find it in him to say no.

“We’ll find you when we’re done.”

Junsu is still looking at the Prince like all his dreams have just come true, and Jaejoong decides they really need to be left alone. He is beginning to feel like Junsu orchestrated this entire thing so as to be alone with his master.

“Let’s go, my Prince,” Jaejoong says, and they leave the room, Master taking Seungho’s other hand.

“Do I need to be worried?” his master asks, once they’re a little ways down the hall.

“No, Master,” Jaejoong says, “I’m pretty sure the Crown Prince fell right into Junsu’s crafty little plan.”

“I don’t want to know,” Master decides.

Honestly, neither does Jaejoong.

— 

Dinner is a grand affair, the Prince praising his skills widely as he eats, helps his son to eat, and occasionally sniffs, pretending to remember Junsu sitting at his feet and sliding meat into his mouth.

“I don’t want to know,” Master repeats, and lets Jaejoong eat more food than him, smiling as Jaejoong bites his fingers lightly and doesn’t bother to hide that he licks them clean. He wants him, he wants his master so bad and it’s difficult to control himself. Yunho pulls on his hair in warning more times than he can count but it only serves to rile Jaejoong up even further.

Junsu manages to give him a happy kiss goodbye ( _gods, I really do not want to know_ ,) that has the Prince latching onto Junsu wrist angrily and his Master glowering at them both. 

“What do you say, Seungho?” 

“Thank you!” Seungho trills, and Jaejoong pats his head. 

“You’ll be at the castle in the morning?”

“Yes,” Master nods, “I’ll bring the appropriate papers.”

They leave with Junsu smirking over his shoulder as Yoochun keeps a firm hold on his waist, Seungho skipping ahead of them to the carriage, happy.

Changmin edges into Jaejoong’s vision, half bowed. “My Lord, will you require anything this evening?”

“No, thank you, Changmin,” his master responds. “I have a lot to discuss with Jaejoong, please inform the staff that unless it’s a dire emergency I’d like for us to be left alone.”

“As you wish, my Lord. Please ring for me if you change your mind and you need something.”

“Make sure you eat,” Jaejoong tells him. He knows Changmin’ hasn’t been eating much in the past week, which is worrying and uncharacteristic of him. “I swear to the gods, Changmin, if I find out you’re skipping any more meals I’ll start taking them out of your pay.”

Master looks horrified. “Shim Changmin!”

“I’m fine. I’m—it’s fine. I’ll eat dinner, I promise.”

“We will be discussing this tomorrow,” Master warns. 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

Seemingly satisfied, Master wraps an arm around Jaejoong’s waist and propels them up the corridor. 

“Master—“

“Hush.”

He bites his lips, hurrying along as they nearly run towards their bedroom and gods, Master is probably angry. He’s probably frustrated with Jaejoong’s mouth and the way he can’t control what he says and frustrated he didn’t say anything about Changmin and—

And then they’re at their rooms and through the door, mouths fused together as soon as the lock is in place. “ _Yunho_ ,” Jaejoong murmurs, when they need to break for air. And oh. This is a familiar scenario.

“I think this is where we left off.”

“But—“

“Not now,” Yunho shakes his head. “Later, maybe. Now, I need you. I want you, Jaejoong, please. _Two whole weeks_.”

Jaejoong cannot refuse that pout. How can he if Yunho wants to kiss him instead of be mad at him? He’ll take kissing any day of the week. 

Yunho spins him, trapping his arms and pressing him tight against the wall. When Yunho doesn’t let up, Jaejoong thinks that at least he can grind up against the wall, but Yunho lands a well-aimed smack to his bottom. “None of that.”

“Yunho, _please_.” 

Lips descend on his neck and Jaejoong immediately whines, knowing exactly where Yunho is going. 

His ink.

Jaejoong is incredibly sensitive around that area, and Yunho knows it, loves to exploit it. His fingers trace it first, brushing against the dark swirls and colors and letters, and then his tongue follows. Jaejoong scrabbles against the wall, gasping for air as the tongue laves at his skin and sends waves of sensation tingling through every nerve of his body. “Please,” he whispers, “please touch me.”

“I am touching you,” Yunho says, the words spreading out into Jaejoong’s skin like new ink, making him shudder. 

“My cock. Touch. My. Cock.”

He gets another smack for that, this one hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t order me around.”

“Please, Master.”

“I will make your ass so red if you don’t watch your mouth, Kim Jaejoong. You can’t control what you say and yet can’t bother to tell me the things that are important.”

The next smack makes Jaejoong cry out. 

“No talking until I say. Or I really will punish you and then tie you to a bed and leave you hard until the morning. Are we clear?”

Jaejoong can only moan in response. Yunho knows what he likes. Knows he likes to be threatened and talked to dirty and _made_ to do things. Like to keep his mouth shut.

The tongue is back on his tattoo and it’s slithering over his skin in a dizzying manner, making it very difficult to not plead for more touching. He can just moan, but even then, it’s so constant and his gasping gets so loud, Yunho smacks him again and finally ends up gagging him. 

They’ve been apart for too long to go _easy_ , though half way through slamming into Jaejoong from behind, Yunho pulls the gag free and lets him scream his way up to an orgasm, though he clamps down on Jaejoong’s cock before he can come.

“Yunho,” Jaejoong gasps.

“I don’t think so. Not after all those words you let fly and all the ones you didn’t tell me. You don’t get to come after all that. You get me to come first, then maybe I won’t leave you high and dry.”

He’d done it once before, after Jaejoong had accidentally miscounted a shipment of goods because he’d kept himself up all night tending to the sick and been too hard headed to see to himself. So Jaejoong knows Yunho would, could tie him to the bed and leave him for a day or even two, so he turns carefully and pulls Yunho in close. Jaejoong bites up Yunho’s throat, sliding his tongue up the skin, leaving trails of salvia in the sweat. But it isn’t until Jaejoong sucks Yunho’s earlobe into his mouth that his master comes with a shout, shuddering as Jaejoong slides a heel down his spine and tugs his mouth away to kiss him.

“Please,” he murmurs, “please, please, please, Master.”

“So good,” Yunho croons, “so good, my pretty Faerlamore.”

“Please, Yunho.”

“I love when you say my name. That’s all you ever have to do.”

Jaejoong has to bite his tongue. He can like Yunho. But he can’t love him. He wishes he could. He wishes they could be like The Prince and Junsu, but Yunho is just a rich merchant and Jaejoong can’t.

Yunho’s kissing down his stomach, a bit messily, sleepy as he already is, but it doesn’t matter. He swallows Jaejoong down and it only takes a few licks, and few strokes, and Jaejoong comes all over Yunho’s face.

— 

Jaejoong wakes up to Yunho nudging his cheek insistently until Jaejoong turns his face to accept a kiss. Yunho ends up sprawled half on top of him, hands buried in hair, their legs tangling together.

“Bath?” Yunho asks, when Jaejoong has to reposition himself or get a crick in his neck.

“Mm.” He’s still sleepy, a little sore since it had been so long, and he shuts his eyes, burrowing back under the covers as Yunho reaches over him to ring for bath water to be drawn. His fingers trace the back of Jaejoong’s neck for a few minutes, and when they hear people in the bathroom, the hand has traveled down to the base of his spine.

When a servant knocks on the door to inform them the bath is ready, Yunho’s hand is back up in Jaejoong’s hair.

Yunho slides into the water first, sighing happily, before helping Jaejoong into the tub after him. The Faerlamore is still feeling rather boneless and curls up easily against Yunho’s chest, tucking his face into Yunho’s neck and sighing happily as a cloth is smoothed over his skin.

“Better?”

“Much,” Jaejoong breathes, happy. 

“You’re all cuddly today. I thought you might actually bite my fingers off at dinner.”

Jaejoong snorts, nearly getting a bath bubble up his nose. Yunho kisses his forehead. “I missed you,” Jaejoong says.

“Two whole weeks,” Yunho sighs. Jaejoong’s sure he’s pouting again. “Did Junsu tell you?”

“About the council? Yes. You’d better have accepted or I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Yunho’s chuckle is light, but there’s an undertone to it that makes Jaejoong lift his head and stare squarely into Yunho’s eyes. Yunho swallows. Like he’s nervous. Like he’s the slave and Jaejoong’s the master, except that doesn’t make sense because Jaejoong can feel Yunho’s cock perking up a bit in interest, though gods know why. “You did say yes, Yunho, right?”

“Of course I said yes.”

The look is gone. Yunho the master is back, fingers tightening on Jaejoong’s hips and Jaejoong considers for a moment, shifting a bit so he can make Yunho’s slightly interested cock into a fully interested one, should it be necessary.

“Tell me about Changmin.”

Well, Jaejoong supposes their cocks can wait awhile more.

“I really don’t know. He’s been sneaking out at night and Cook’s been telling me he doesn’t always come down to get his meals. Some days he’s ecstatic and some days depressed. I’ve never seen him so moody before, it’s worrying.”

It sort of sounds like relationship troubles, but Yunho is very strict with his senior staff concerning courting. If they’re seeing someone, they have to tell him about it, and Changmin is too good of a friend to Yunho (and too much of a stickler) to so blatantly disregard a rule.

“I’ll get it out of him. I’ll at least get him to eat. Oh, is your ass stinging still? Do you need ice?”

Jaejoong snorts. “My ass is fine. You’ve done worse.”

Yunho grins. “I have. But still, if it’s—“

“It’s not. Next time hit me harder. Then your sweet thoughts won’t go to waste.”

Jaejoong leans in and gives Yunho a kiss for his trouble, which turns into a lot of making out, and Jaejoong decides their cocks have waited long enough. “Missed you,” he gasps again, as he lowers himself down onto Yunho, one hand in his hair pulling his head back tight for another kiss.

Yunho can only manage a moan, and there. It’s that look again. The one Jaejoong can’t quite figure out. 

But now isn’t really the time.

He has a master to please, and with a little smirk, grinds down.

— 

The morning is unbelievably hectic.

It starts out wonderfully, though, Jaejoong waking Yunho with a tongue to his dick and fingers all over his body. “Missed that,” Yunho admits, as they lay breathing heavy, waiting for Changmin to knock on the door and fetch them for breakfast. “Waking up on my own was miserable.”

Breakfast is rushed (they don’t even sit down,) directing staff to prepare the carriage for their visit to the palace, and Master instructing Changmin carefully on the things they need to bring. Jaejoong feels unprepared, but even so, catches sight of his reflection as he hurries out the door and thinks he is quite presentable.

He’s only been to the palace a few times, most of them for official business and the others for parties. He does not see Seungho, or even Junsu. He stands at his master’s side, being his Faerlamore, kneeling when he is commanded to kneel, bowing when he is asked to bow. The whole process of swearing fealty to the Prince as a council member takes an hour, and they’re back to the mansion with new titles and new seals just in time for lunch.

“Congratulations, Master,” Jaejoong murmurs.

“This is just as much work for you. And you know, you can call me Yunho now. At least in your head.”

“How did you—“ Jaejoong frowns. He’d never told Master—no, Yunho. He’d never told Yunho that he even called him master in his head when they were not in the bedroom.

“I can tell. You have a certain air about you when you think of me as _Master_ and a different sort of feeling about you when you think of me as _Yunho_.” He steps in closer. “Just for the record, I prefer Yunho.”

“Noted.”

Yunho leans down to kiss him them, quickly and lightly, but a kiss nonetheless. “I’m going to speak with Changmin, now.”

“Fine. I think I’ll go into the market. A special occasion calls for a special meal.”

“That sounds good to me.”

It’s another few kisses before they part. Jaejoong will still call him Master in front of the staff, mostly so they aren’t scandalized, and definitely will call him Master when they have guests. But it will be nice to think of him as Yunho, no matter where he is.

— 

The marketplace is essentially Yunho’s kingdom, embedded as he is in trade and as trusted as he is in the King’s court. Most everyone knows who Jaejoong is and accords him the respect he deserves. At least half the vendors rent space from Yunho to sell their wares, some even having purchased space from him, and he’s fair about it all. He doesn’t try to cheat people out of anything and is careful when collecting taxes. He hires private guards to keep the peace between sellers and buyers, and even started an orphanage to house the children stealing food and purses so as to stay alive.

So when Jaejoong is in the middle of trying to pull down the price of some meat, and out of the corner of his eye sees a young child tottering out in the middle of the road, he is confused. “Hold on one minute,” he tells the butcher, intent on finding out who exactly is letting a baby wander around unsupervised. A baby is a boy, no older than two as he waves excitedly, arms outstretched at something on the side of the street where Jaejoong is. It looks as though he’s just learned to walk.

“What on earth,” Jaejoong mutters, “he’s going to get—“

But he’s spoken too late.

There’s a loud screech of metal and a carriage whips around a corner, clearly blind to the child directly in front of it, and without even thinking (the butcher’s frantic screaming behind him,) Jaejoong bolts out on the road and in a second has the child scooped up in his arms, the driver holding the reins finally catching sight of him. The end result is a mess, the carriage tipping over as Jaejoong is miraculously not hit by it, the horses’ leather reins snapping, one of the animals fleeing half way down the street before someone manages to grab it.

Jaejoong’s so relieved, he collapses onto his knees, holding onto the boy tightly as the child screams in terror. 

“ _What do you think you are doing?_ ”

Jaejoong raises his head, still shaken, to find a man standing above him, presumably the one in the carriage. He’s going slightly purple, jaw clenching in his anger, like _Jaejoong_ is the one in the wrong. “Excuse me? You almost killed a baby! Do you realize how fast your driver was going?”

Before Jaejoong can process it, the man’s hand connects with Jaejoong’s cheek and his head flies to the side, skin burning.

“That is not how a slave speaks to anyone.”

He’s identifiable as a slave, for certain, because of the cut of his clothing and his short hair. Faerlamore or no, tattoo or no, that at least remains the same, despite the quality or even color of the fabric.

“And that’s certainly not how one will speak to me. I am a Lord. I can do whatever I please, so watch your tongue, you beast, or I will have it cut out.”

The man’s foot connects with Jaejoong’s side and all he can think is _baby_ The baby is screaming into his ear and Jaejoong curls his body around him so that he cannot be hurt. Something grabs Jaejoong’s hair and yanks hard, a hand sliding down his body to cup at his cock and Jaejoong thinks _no, no, no,_ as hot breath whispers into his ear, “This is your use, slave, nothing else. You’ve ruined my carriage, my horses are hurt, you have no money, so tell me how you’re going to pay for all those damages.”

“ _Get your hands off of me_.” Instead of relief, a sharp stabbing pain in his side causes Jaejoong to cry out and he falls opposite it, holding the baby tightly still and praying Yunho’s guards get there quick because he might actually die. The child might die. Jaejoong really wants to know what idiot let their kid roam around free because this is _all their fault_ and Jaejoong really wants to cry, all of a sudden. Can he please just cry?

“What is this?”

Jaejoong can see the uniformed feet of Yunho’s guards running towards them and he thinks _finally_. But he doesn’t move, not until he feels the man’s hands pulled from his body. Someone tries to take the child from him as well but Jaejoong only tightens his grips, curling around the boy even more and hoping he hasn’t been injured. 

He blocks it out. He’s not inclined to move for strangers, not inclined to move for anyone except Yunho and that’s who they’re going to have to fetch if they want to fix this.

So he focuses on the baby, as best he can. “What’s your name,” he whispers. The baby’s eyes look familiar, though he’s too tired to actually place them. “You’re very pretty. And so big!”

The baby is still screaming.

“Calm down,” Jaejoong soothes, “shh, baby. It’s ok. You’re safe with me, I promise, nothing is going to happen.” It feels like it takes hours, but finally the screaming turns into crying turns into sniffling, and the baby stares up at Jaejoong with such sad eyes. “Are you hungry? You look hungry. I know the hungry look very well. I don’t have food, but you don’t have teeth so you can chew on my hand if you want.”

When Jaejoong lifts his fingers, the baby dives for them, and he immediately shoves the tips into his mouth. “There we go. That’s much better. When Master comes to rescue us, I’ll figure out what you like to eat and make pans of it. Although it’s probably just milk. Still. When…when Yunho gets here.”

He tucks the baby under his chin carefully, soothed by the gentle pressure on his fingers and waits.

— 

“Jaejoong? Jaejoong-ah, it’s me. It’s Yunho.”

Yunho.

Jaejoong cracks an eye open, the sudden brightness blinding him momentarily before he can focus on the face in front of him. “Master,” he breathes out. He must be careful. He doesn’t know who might be watching, listening.

“Can you stand?”

Jaejoong’s honestly not sure. Yunho helps him little by little, smiling at the baby that’s quieted and is staring up at Jaejoong with eyes that look oddly familiar. “I’ll get a carriage,” Yunho whispers, after Jaejoong’s fifth attempt to put weight on his legs. The pain in his side is too sharp, and he manages to pass the baby over to Yunho before he throws up onto the street. It looks like there’s blood mixed in with the contents of his stomach. He probably should have stayed still.

Yunho swears. 

Jaejoong blacks out.

—

A gentle sound of wind wakes Jaejoong from his sleep.

Changmin’s sitting beside the bed (it’s Yunho’s,) the child curled into his arms and sleeping peacefully. The butler has his eyes closed as well, but he’s clearly awake as he’s humming under his breath and brushing his lips across the top of the baby’s head.

“Changmin-ah,” Jaejoong rasps.

Changmin’s eyes fly open. “Hyung! You’re awake. Thank the gods. Hold on, let me get Yunho.”

“Wait—Changmin—“

But he’s gone, rushing out the door, baby in his arms, and Jaejoong’s left staring at the ceiling. He feels much better, probably because half his body has been numbed, but he can wiggle his toes.

A second later, Yunho sweeps into the room, relief written all over his face and Jaejoong smiles as he drops kisses all over his face. “You were spitting up blood and I was so worried but _you’re awake now_ , I’m so happy.”

“Like I’d let someone like that kill me.” He slides his gaze around Yunho’s shoulder. “The baby?’

“He’s perfectly fine, you hero. I can’t believe you dove in front of a carriage to save him. Well, I can believe it, but I’m amazed you didn’t even think twice.”

“No time,” Jaejoong scoffs, but smiles when Yunho leans down to kiss him. It’s a very nice kiss.

“Thankfully, Changmin knows the baby. He’s an orphan, and the baby apparently knows Changmin from all the times he’s spent at the orphanage playing with the kids. Damn child refuses to leave his arms and Changmin hasn’t breathed a word of complaint about it.”

Changmin takes his work at the orphanage very seriously, so Jaejoong isn’t particularly surprised. Though Changmin has never said he’d had a favorite among the children there.

Speak of the devil, Changmin walks back into the room, baby perched on his hip now wide awake. He doesn’t look at Yunho, but when Changmin nudges the child towards Jaejoong, he gurgles, and lets Changmin place him on the bed, where he crawls over to Jaejoong and pats his cheek. “That’s how Hyunwoo expresses his happiness,” Changmin tells them.

“Hyunwoo,” Jaejoong coos, with a smile, and Hyunwoo babbles in baby at him, gesturing at Changmin. “Yes, I can see that he’s your favorite. Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I only saved your life.”

“You’re too kind, hyung. Come on, Hyunwoo, let’s let them be.”

He’s a little too young to understand exactly what Changmin had meant, but he does understand Changmin holding out his arms and the baby falls into them, curling back up against his chest with a happy giggle.

“So what’s my verdict?” Jaejoong asks, after Yunho had helped him take a sip of water.

“You’ll live,” Yunho says, poking Jaejoong’s cheek. “The blood was from the inside of your mouth, not your stomach, for which I am eternally glad. Your side was all whacked out, but no lasting damage. You just need to rest.”

“Just what I wanted. I’ve been so overworked.”

Yunho snorts, but lays himself down on the bed next to Jaejoong, sliding an around around him. “I was so scared. Everyone was screaming about you being run over by a carriage and I thought—there was blood and I thought I’d lost you and it was—gods. Please don’t recklessly throw yourself in front of moving objects ever again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

Feelings. They talk about feelings, sometimes, but usually they’re naked and in the throes of passion and most things can be chalked up to the fact that Jaejoong very good with his mouth and Yunho’s exceedingly good with his hands.

“I’ll try not to in the future,” Jaejoong promises, swallowing against the emotions that Yunho’s little rant had brought forth. He has as much of Yunho as he will ever have, and there’s nothing to be done about it. Yunho likes him and he…likes Yunho, for all intents and purposes and any other words to describe that attraction are dangerous. Very, very, dangerous. “I’m tired,” he says, suddenly not wanting to look Yunho in the eyes.

“Then sleep,” Yunho murmurs, patting Jaejoong’s arm, “we can talk when you wake.”

 

 

 

 

This time, when Jaejoong wakes, Junsu’s curled up on the bed next to him, face smushed against Jaejoong’s shoulder and his arm wound tight around him. Jaejoong can see a faint hickey on Junsu’s neck and he rolls his eyes. Junsu has always insisted on marks where people can see them. The Prince is always happy to oblige.

Seungho is at the base of the bed smiling at something playing with a soft pillow. It takes a moment for Jaejoong to realize that it’s Hyunwoo. 

“Aren’t they cute?” Junsu whispers.

Jaejoong groans. 

“Sorry. I felt you stirring so I thought you were awake. Can I get you something?”

Jaejoong manages to say water and Junsu maneuvers himself off the bed and over to where there’s a pitcher. It’s not exactly cool but it soothes Jaejoong’s scratchy throat all the same.

A giggle makes him glance back down at the children. Seungho seems thoroughly entranced by everything Hyunwoo does, like he’s never seen a baby before in his life.

“Seungho!” Junsu says firmly, when Seungho tugs the pillow away from Hyunwoo just to see the way his face scrunches as he gets upset. “That’s not nice. Give it back to him.”

Hyunwoo’s tears disappear immediately as he gets his soft toy back and he gurgles, drooling all over it. He looks terribly pleased with himself and Jaejoong’s eyebrows narrow a moment, because the expression is oddly familiar. There’s something about this baby that he can’t quite place. It’s going to bother him until he figures it out.

“Yunho?”

“With Yoochun, handing out justice to the bastard that did this to you.”

“Not Prince’s—problem.”

Junsu shakes his head. “No, it is. You’re a council member, or at least, you are through Yunho, and not even a fellow council member or Faerlamore could get away with that. Especially considering you were saving a child’s life. The man was only a disgruntled merchant. He will not be welcome to trade here any longer. But enough of that. How are you feeling?”

Jaejoong tilts his head and moves his feet experimentally. “Better. Can I sit up?”

“Let’s try! No one said you weren’t allowed.”

His side is still extremely sore where he had been kicked, but he manages to sit up and give Seungho a hug. “Appa said someone hurt you. I wish I was older! So I could protect you!”

Jaejoong tucks a piece of hair behind the prince’s ear as Junsu laughs. “My little prince. You’re so sweet. You’ll grow up soon enough, you don’t have to worry about me. Or Junsu. We have a lot of people to care for us.”

“I’m going to be five soon! That’s not little anymore! Appa said that being prince means I have to protect everyone! I have to protect Junsu and you and Yunho, and now I’m going to protect Hyunwoo!”

“Are you?” Jaejoong asks, smiling.

“Yes!”

“You’re going to make a wonderful king, Seungho. Your father’s taught you so well already.”

Seungho pauses before grinning. “Will I be?”

“For certain,” Jaejoong nods. He helps Seungho onto his lap and manages to cuddle the boy despite his aching side. “But until then, you just worry about being a good boy for your Appa and learning as much as you can. Alright?”

“Yes,” Seungho nods, with determination.

“Who needs medicine when I have an angels like you to make me feel better?”

At the edge of the bed, Hyunwoo chews on his pillow.

— 

By the next day, Jaejoong’s walking, albeit carefully, and he finds that his predicament makes the staff that much more willing to hop to their tasks. He wonders if maybe he should fake illness every now and then, just to keep them on their toes.

Hyunwoo sticks mostly to Changmin. He’s happy around Jaejoong and likes Yunho, but only Changmin can feed him and only Changmin can get him to fall asleep.

“Did you talk to him?” Jaejoong asks, as they hide behind a door and watch Changmin coo at the baby.

“Yes,” Yunho murmurs, hands supporting Jaejoong steadily, “He promised to eat, but wouldn’t say more than that.”

Jaejoong huffs. “I’m too tired to be upset right now. Will you carry me, Master?”

Yunho snorts. It’s all a oxymoron, because a slave doesn’t ask things of his master, but there’s no one to hear them, and even if there were, Jaejoong’s beyond caring. He _wants_ his master. And apparently, Yunho wants his Faerlamore, because he lifts Jaejoong easily and carries him to their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and dropping him onto the bed.

Their kiss is easy. “Let me,” he says, pulling one of Yunho’s hands away from his clothes and the other already going for their pot of oil under the bed.

“Let you what?”

“Let me take care of you. Let me…just do this for you. I’m too tired. I don’t want to come. So let me just make you.” He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?” 

Yunho shakes his head, mutely. 

“Then let me at you already.”

By the time they get Yunho’s clothes off, he’s half hard. It’s easy to position himself over Yunho so his side doesn’t hurt and he sighs happily as he slips Yunho’s cock into his mouth. It’s hot and heavy; Yunho’s moan is music to Jaejoong’s ears and he seals his lips around Yunho and doesn’t let up until he’s fully erect. Fingers slide into Jaejoong’s hair and try to push him down further but Jaejoong, without thinking, smacks Yunho thigh, pulling away. A trail of spit and precum follows and he wipes it away. “None of that. Or I’ll stop.” He wonders, for a moment, if he’d gone too far, but that odd look is back in Yunho’s eyes and he’s moved his hands away, dutifully.

Well, then.

Heechul had been the one to teach Jaejoong about sex. His other masters had been too old and frail to care, using him for his lingual skills or talent in the kitchen. Heechul had taught him to pleasure a man, taught him how to prepare himself (or them,) taught him how to suck cock. He’d later confessed the only reason he’d purchased Jaejoong in the first place had been to groom him for Yunho, Heechul having known his friend needed a body slave, and rather desperately at that. So really, Jaejoong has been trained precisely and solely for Yunho. And he likes it when he can prove that.

“Gods, Jaejoong-ah,” Yunho gasps, when Jaejoong swallows him back down, and he vows that those will be the last intelligible words out of Yunho’s mouth until he comes.

And they are. Because if all else fails, Heechul had taught him to be good with his mouth. He knows exactly what Yunho likes, what he can take, and what drives him over the edge. If they were planning on sex, if this had just been foreplay, Jaejoong would have been gentle. He would have done one thing at a time. But that’s not what this is. Jaejoong is getting his master off and intends on making it as good as possible. He slithers his tongue all over Yunho’s dick, sucks his balls into his mouth, slides his fingers up the underside and back down until Yunho is gasping. Jaejoong tongues the slit, sucking a little desperately (probably a little rough,) and slips a finger into Yunho’s body, and then a second, a third, and only pulls away to keep Yunho from coming. Not yet.

Gods, though, Jaejoong hadn’t initially been interested but he’s so hard, suddenly. He takes a moment to rut against the bed, sighing happily as it relieves some pressure. Yunho is mumbling incoherently, hands trying to come up to his dick to finish himself off but Jaejoong slaps them away. “No,” he hisses. The bed actually feels quite nice as he grinds against it, and he raises himself up on his elbows so Yunho can get a glimpse of the way his hips are moving. 

“Mmmhnngg,” Yunho whines. He tries to kick his leg but Jaejoong smacks his thigh again, which only makes him groan louder.

Jaejoong laughs, licking his lips, and decides to take pity. He sucks Yunho into his mouth all the way and cups his balls as he slides two fingers back into Yunho and licks and presses and moans until he feels his master fall apart underneath his hands. Yunho doesn’t want everything swallowed. Just some, just a little, because he likes the way it slips out of from between Jaejoong’s lips and coats them, makes them stick together before spilling down his chin. Uncontrollable. 

Yunho likes his slave dirty.

Hands pulls Jaejoong up for a kiss, cum still leaking from the corners of his mouth, but Yunho apparently doesn’t care. Orgasm has wrung the finesse right out of him, but he’s at least coherent enough to tell that regardless of their earlier exchange, Jaejoong is painfully hard.

The Faerlamore watches as Yunho slides his hand through the mess of fluids on his body and slips it into Jaejoong’s robes, pushing the fabric aside and gripping Jaejoong’s cock. Honestly, Jaejoong’s not interested in lasting a long time, and Yunho seems to agree. A few twists of his wrist, along with the knowledge of what’s making the slide of his hand smooth and easy and Jaejoong’s gasping into Yunho’s shoulder, shuddering as he comes.

He realizes they both must have blacked out, because he wakes up to a very gross mess that’s mostly dried. He pokes Yunho’s cheek with the cleanest of his fingers.

“Mmm.”

“I’m not sleeping the whole night like this, Yunho. Wake up right now!”

“Mmmmwake. I’m awake.” Yunho cracks an eye open and then grins lazily (sleezily, Jaejoong thinks, with an exaggerated eye roll.) “You’re amazing. That was amazing, Jaejoong.”

“Well, it’s my job,” Jaejoong sniffs.

He wishes he hadn’t said it the second it leaves his mouth. He thinks he sees Yunho’s face fall, just for a split second, but then it’s gone, and there’s a sharp slap to his thigh and he grins. “That had such a nice sting to it. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Jaejoong!”

“Can we please clean up?”

They do, Yunho grumbling about mouthy slaves the entire time, but he’s cuddly and happy once they’re done. “So good t’me,” Yunho sighs.

“You deserve it.”

“Never did send Heechul that expensive gift.”

“You probably should. Better late than never.” 

“True. Don’t want him sending assassins after my ungrateful ass.”

“At least it’s a cute ass?”

They both laugh, Yunho dropping a kiss onto Jaejoong’s cheek before he freezes suddenly, and pulls away. “Is that—a baby?”

Jaejoong frowns. Distantly, he can hear crying. “I thought…didn’t we see him with Changmin?”

“Changmin set him up in a room between both of ours, just in case. Duties and all that. I wonder if…”

They exchange a look. Perhaps, Jaejoong thinks, filling in the blanks, Changmin decided to sneak out and leave the baby to them. Jaejoong’s frowns deepens. 

“I’ll go quiet the kid,” Yunho says, “you should check on Changmin. If he is there, I doubt he’ll want to talk to me after the scolding I gave him earlier.”

“Alright,” Jaejoong agrees.

They dress quickly, slipping on the bare minimum of proper garments. Changmin’s room is close to Yunho’s so that, should Yunho need anything in the middle of the night, the butler wouldn’t have to trek across the entire mansion. 

He expects to find Changmin gone, the room locked up tight. But it’s not. The door is, for some reason, not locked, and there are _sounds_ coming from inside. Rather familiar sounds, actually, and for a second, Jaejoong doesn’t want to go inside and face what he thinks he’ll find. But then he remembers Yunho and the baby and all the stress Changmin’s been causing him and the hesitation slips away.

When he steps inside the room, Jaejoong’s jaw drops.

There is no mistaking this. There’s no blanket or darkness for them to hide under. Changmin’s sliding in and out of the girl beneath him easily, one hand in between their bodies making her moan. She has her legs wrapped around him and every thrust is causing her toes to curl.

“Shim Changmin,” Jaejoong growls.

But he goes unheard, Changmin’s thrusts speeding up with his hand, their lips meeting rather messily as she undoubtably comes, her entire body tensing underneath him as he pulls her cries into his mouth, pulling him over the edge with her and Jaejoong has to shut his eyes a moment as he sees far too much.

He waits until Changmin quiets before opening his eyes. They still haven’t noticed him, as they kiss each other gently, smiling.

“Shim Changmin!”

This time he does not go unnoticed.

They fall over each other as they try and reach a blanket but Jaejoong doesn’t let them, pulling it out of their grasp sharply. “Stand up! Both of you!” Naked, trying to cover themselves, they’re both red in the face. Jaejoong’s well aware of how embarrassing it is. 

“I stood there screaming your name for quite a while.” The girl turns even more scarlet than she had been. “Are your ears blocked?”

Changmin shakes his head, seemingly dumb-founded.

“Changmin, who is this?”

Changmin swallows. “J-Joohyun. This is Seo Joohyun.”

“Seo. As in the _merchant_ Seo? Changmin, you’d better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not. Jaejoong, I’m not.”

Merchant Seo is one of Yunho’s largest vendors. He is never afraid to test Yunho’s rules or try and cheat him out of money or wares. He’s not bad, per say, but he’s certainly slippery, and Jaejoong can only guess that this is his daughter. Jaejoong doesn’t think it could be any worse.

“That’s Faerlamore to you, right now. I am not happy, Changmin. How long has this been going on?”

Jaejoong starts to pray. Maybe if Changmin says one night, or even one week, it’ll be fine. Because then he wouldn’t have broken any of Yunho’s rules and Yunho will be a lot less mad. “Changmin, how long?”

“I. Just. It’s.”

Jaejoong reaches out and jerks a cord, ringing for one of the slaves that attends to Changmin. “Now, Changmin.”

“A few years.”

Jaejoong blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Two and a half years.”

“Two—“ Jaejoong has to take a deep breath. “Two and a half years? Of _this_?”

Seo Joohyun whimpers. This is probably worse for her, seeing as she has some burgeoning status whereas Changmin has no noble blood whatsoever. Her family is not going to be pleased.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Jaejoong demands.

“Yes, Faerlamore.”

Gods, but Jaejoong is going to kill him.

The door creaks and a slave steps through it, eyes to the ground. “What can I get you sir?” The title is dragged out as he raises his eyes and takes in the sight in front of him. They look ready to pop out of his head. “F-Faerlamore?”

“Please run up to my Master’s room and fetch him. Tell him it’s an emergency and I request his presence as fast as he can get down here.”

“Of course, Faerlamore, right away.”

“He might be in the child’s room, I’m not sure.”

“I’ll check, Faerlamore.”

“Jaejoong—“

Jaejoong points a finger in Changmin’s face. “Get cleaned up and dressed. You have ten minutes, don’t you dare try to run. I’m _very upset_ , Changmin, and if you call me by my name before I give you permission you will regret it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Faerlamore.”

Jaejoong takes a few careful steps out the door and shuts it behind him. He nearly collapses. Of all the people he’d expect to have a relationship under Yunho’s nose, Changmin is the very last. Two and a half years means before Jaejoong had even been here. Jaejoong knows Changmin, knows that he throws himself into everything he does and gives one hundred percent, which means he’s serious and that makes this all the more difficult. Because they probably love each other, which makes Jaejoong incapable of dealing with this problem. Jaejoong is not _allowed_ to love.

Yunho appears around the corner, Hyunwoo in his arms, both of them pouting. Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. “He was fussing!” Yunho sniffs, “I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Jaejoong sighs and holds out his arms, taking Hyunwoo gently. He’s light enough to not bother Jaejoong’s sore side, at least not for a little while. Jaejoong doesn’t expect this to take long.

“Now, what’s going on?”

As soon as the story’s out of Jaejoong’s mouth, Yunho nearly breaks the door getting inside. “Shim Changmin!”

“My…Lord, wait. Please, just.”

“Wait for what?” Yunho growls.

They’re at least dressed, Jaejoong thinks, as he steps back inside the room, Hyunwoo balanced carefully on the hip of his good side. Changmin’s gaze goes straight to him and he looks terribly pained. Jaejoong has no intention of handing the child over and he raises an eyebrow until Changmin looks down at the floor.

“Changmin, do I not have a rule about relationships?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And that rule is that my senior staff are required to inform me of any relationships they might have?”

There’s a pause. “Yes, my Lord.”

Hyunwoo babbles, clueless to the tense atmosphere and just very happy to see Changmin. Jaejoong shushes him, grabbing one of Changmin’s shirts from the floor and balling it up, handing it to the child. He immediately begins to gnaw at the fabric, pleased. Honestly, the kid will try to eat anything.

“So then can you please explain why my Faerlamore walked in on you having sex with one of my merchant’s daughters? Because this is exactly the sort of situation I was using the rule to avoid. This is going to be a mess to fix. If you emerge from this with your job intact it will be a miracle, do you understand me? Only half of this is within my control.”

Joohyun is crying, clutching Changmin’s arm and trying very hard not to be loud about it. But she’s distraught, as is Changmin, and Jaejoong feels a pang of pity—a very small pang, but a pang nonetheless. He reaches behind him and rings for the slave again, who appears a second later. Had he been right at the door? No matter. “Escort Miss Seo to a room, please,” Jaejoong directs, and adds so she cannot hear, “lock her in and bring me the key.” Just to be safe.

“Yes, Faerlamore.”

Hyunwoo gurgles, reaching for the man’s garments, but Jaejoong catches his fingers before they can grab it. It’s like they never feed him.

Joohyun bows to Yunho on her way out, which he doesn’t bother acknowledging, still scowling at Changmin, and it’s quiet until the door shuts behind them. 

“Sit,” Yunho directs.

Perhaps wisely, Changmin kneels on the floor, swallowing as Yunho sits in front of him, arms crossed. He has his Lord Face on, and Jaejoong really hopes he doesn’t fire Changmin right then and there.

“Two and a half years is a very long time to hide a relationship from me.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Oh good, you agree. I was worried you might think this is not important or a problem at all.”

Changmin glances at Jaejoong for a second, still standing with Hyunwoo at the door, before turning his gaze back to the floor. “This is extremely important to me.”

“This? Sex or Joohyun?”

“Joohyun,” Changmin impresses. Jaejoong feels a little less angry, though technically this just makes things that much more complicated. 

_Love_ , he thinks. He isn’t allowed to have such things. He wonders if he should just leave this to Yunho. Maybe he should go and feed Hyunwoo, even though he’s already had dinner.

“Changmin. Are we not…friends?”

Except, no. Hyunwoo already ate and Yunho now looks on the verge of tears so Jaejoong is going to stay.

“I—yes.”

“Why wouldn’t…if she’s important then why wouldn’t you want to tell me? I don’t understand.”

“You know I can’t…I can’t be with her. Her family would never agree.”

“That’s a bullshit reason. You’re not a slave. I think very highly of you, Changmin, and you know I would do anything for you. I would have been able to talk to her family about it and possibly convinced them. I would have talked to Yoochun about giving you a title, even, so that they couldn’t argue about you being a _servant_. But now I can’t. You hid it and you were caught and it’s going to be a godsdamn mess to sort out.”

“It wasn’t—it was an accident. It happened once, one night and then a few months later I bumped into her at a street festival and then again at a ball and then. Then.”

Changmin glances at Jaejoong again. “Why are you looking at me, Shim Changmin? I’m not on your side right now, you will garner no sympathy from me.”

“I—I’m not looking at you.”

Jaejoong blinks. 

“Changmin,” Yunho starts.

But then Jaejoong frowns. “Wait. You’re.” He stares at Changmin, really looks at him for a moment, and then with a bit of a sinking stomach, looks down at Hyunwoo. 

Changmin’s eyes stare back at him.

“Oh,” Jaejoong says intelligently.

“Please,” Changmin whispers, “please, Hyung, please understand _why_ I couldn’t--”

There’s a knock on the door and it’s the slave, bowing and handing over a key. “Thank you,” Jaejoong manages, despite the information whirling inside his mind. Yunho still hasn’t made the connection, apparently, because he’s frowning between Changmin and Jaejoong like the Faerlamore had just betrayed everyone he loved.

“Will you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. You may retire for the night. Sleep well.”

The slave blinks. “Oh. Good night, then.” He doesn’t often get excused for an entire night, Jaejoong’s certain. Changmin has far too many duties so if he didn’t delegate to slaves and other servants, he’d never sleep.

Jaejoong pockets the key before Hyunwoo can start to chew on it and turns his gaze back to Changmin. He’s crying, body shaking as he tries to muffle the noise into his palm.

“What is going on?” Yunho asks, “Changmin, what am I missing?”

 _So dense_ , Jaejoong thinks, but of course he himself had only just figured it out himself. “Changmin,” he prompts.

“Just. It’s.”

“Spit it out.”

“Hyunwooismyson. Hyunwoo. He is.”

Yunho frowns, replaying the words in his mind and as it dawns on him, eyes growing large, Changmin says it again. His hands shake. “Hyunwoo is my son.”

Yunho lets out a breath. “Yours and Joohyun’s. You. Changmin, you had a baby and you didn’t think you _ought to tell me_?”

Jaejoong foresees this as a very long night.

— 

Surprisingly Yunho doesn’t punch Changmin in the face. Jaejoong’s sure it’s only because he stays in the room with Hyunwoo. The butler’s distress had finally been noticed by the child and he wouldn’t stop wriggling in Jaejoong’s arms until he was released and allowed to crawl over to his—Jaejoong stumbles around the word—father. Hyunwoo had crawled to his father and patted his cheek until the tears stopped.

Something about the exchange had deflated Yunho’s anger, and now he sits with an arm around his servant (friend,) and they stare at the wall, trying to think of a solution. Jaejoong’s not sure they’ll reach one any time soon.

“I don’t want you to have to leave, you know that.”

“I know. But I will, if that’s what needs to happen.”

“It’s good that you’re thinking of him,” Jaejoong says. 

Hyunwoo has long since fallen asleep in Changmin’s arms, and the servant brushes his hair back gently. “I can’t think of anything else.”

Jaejoong pats his ankle. “I guess this is why you’ve been so weird lately.”

Changmin nods. “I didn’t want to lie. But one secret became two and then three and then Joohyun said she was pregnant and her sister wanted her to get rid of the child but she didn’t want that and neither did I. The orphanage found out and they said they’d take him in and we could visit whenever we wanted and that if we ever wanted him back they’d give him willingly.”

“Oh, Changmin.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It might take awhile for me to get over it,” Yunho admits, “but I’m not going to fire you, if I can help it and I’ll do whatever I can so you can keep Hyunwoo. I promise. I can’t really do anything for Joohyun.”

“I know. I’ll—we’ll think of something. Hyung, just. Thank you. Thanks for running out into the street to save my baby.”

“Next time don’t let the baby go out into the street, Changmin.”

Jaejoong can practically feel the protective, fatherly aura pouring off Changmin as he seethes. “I’m going to _kill_ whomever was supposed to be watching him at the orphanage. They told me he just walked on out on his own, but I do not understand how he can walk out when there’s a full _staff_ of people who are clearly idiots—“

“Changmin,” Yunho soothes. He sits down on Changmin’s other side, arm coming around his shoulders and Jaejoong has to swallow his smile when he feels Yunho’s fingertips on his neck. “He’s safe. I can at least take care of the orphanage problem. Since it’s _my_ orphanage. I can’t have you killing anyone.”

“Right,” Changmin says, clutching Hyunwoo closer, “right. No killing.”

“It’ll all work out,” Jaejoong promises, linking his arm through Changmin’s and leaning on his shoulder. He brushes away a baby eyelash on Hyunwoo’s cheek. “Somehow.”

— 

Babies stay on Jaejoong’s mind for days. Not just because they now have one temporarily staying with them, but because he watches Yunho with him and thinks about the fact that Yunho needs an heir. He needs a wife and they need to have a baby and life together that has no room for a Faerlamore.

He wishes it were as easy to solve as adopting Hyunwoo. But that’s only allowed if Yunho can prove that Hyunwoo has no parents and if he himself is unable to have children. The first is definitely out of the question and according to Yunho’s physician, he will have no problem impregnating his future wife.

So Jaejoong mopes.

Yunho notices almost immediately, planting extra kisses on his cheek and feeding him extra large portions of meat. But he doesn’t ask why and that only makes Jaejoong sadder. 

It’s Junsu that finally coaxes it out of him. Yunho calls Yoochun down to discuss Changmin’s problem (because the three of them had been friends before their social status’ had inevitably separated them,) and Junsu corners Jaejoong as they watch Seungho and Hyunwoo nap, Seungho keeping a protective arm around the baby.

“It’s because of the wife thing, isn’t it?” Junsu is frowning. He’s got his arms crossed and his eyebrows knitted together, a look of concentration creeping across his face. It’s more cute than intimidating and Jaejoong can’t actually take him seriously. But it’s Junsu, and he’s right, so Jaejoong spills his guts anyway.

“You know,” Junsu says, “all you have to do is sit Yunho down and tell him that you love him. Tell him you’re scared of him getting a wife and forgetting you. And then you can talk it out and have really great sex afterwards.”

“I’m not allowed to love.”

“Don’t be an idiot. When has Yunho ever followed the rules with you?”

“Often, surprisingly. Actually, most of the time.” Yunho doesn’t allow him to sit in a chair at the table. Yunho punishes him if he doesn’t follow proper protocol. Yunho is strict about name calling, when it matters. Logically, Yunho will not allow him to love. Jaejoong is a part of Yunho, an extension of his own body. He doesn’t get an opinion.

“You’d better talk to him. Do you hear me? Even if he just says ‘no, Jaejoong, that’s not allowed,’ then at least you know. Maybe he’d even punish you.”

“Maybe Yoochun doesn’t care but Yunho’s punishments for infractions are very different from his sexy punishments for fun.”

Junsu snorts. “Yoochun cares very much. They probably even compare punishment notes, the fuckers.”

“Plan ahead,” Jaejoong agrees.

They laugh.

Junsu guides Jaejoong’s head onto his lap, brushing back his hair. “Now’s a good time to bring it up, when he’s sad that there’s only so much he can do for Changmin.”

“Or a bad time, since he’s angry a servant disregarded his rules. For _years_.”

“Have you loved him for years?” Junsu asks.

 _I’ve loved him since the second I laid eyes on him_ , Jaejoong thinks. His silence is answer enough for Junsu, and he squeezes Jaejoong’s shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. “Get the fuck over it,” he offers, not unkindly, and Jaejoong can only sigh.

— 

The solution the Prince suggests is surprisingly generous of him, but only if you didn’t know he’d also been childhood friends with Changmin. Despite being a servant, Changmin is among a small circle of people that the Prince will bend over backwards to help.

The Prince offers to take Hyunwoo to the palace under the condition that he will eventually be tutored by Junsu to be Seungho’s Faerlamore, once he’s old enough, at any rate.

Changmin would be an idiot not to accept, especially after the Prince adds that he’ll also take on Changmin as an official in the Palace so that he can be near his son. There isn’t much they can do about Joohyun, that will be up to her family, but the Prince says he will talk to them and that with Changmin’s new position, the possibility of them marrying will be much greater.

He cries for a good half hour onto the Prince’s shoulder while Hyunwoo chews industriously on his shirt sleeve. 

All in all, it’s a crisis well avoided.

And yet, during dinner, Jaejoong finds himself feeling rather sick. The longer the evening goes on, the worse it gets and he sways dangerously before dessert is brought out, headache pounding at his temples.

“Jaejoong?” 

He can barely make out Yunho’s face, swimming in front of him. “So dizzy,” Jaejoong says as the room tilts to the side. He realizes after a second that he’s the one tipping because he hears Yunho shout in alarm and feels hands catch him before he hits the stone floor. “Thought it was the ground,” Jaejoong mutters.

“Silly,” Yunho says back, “you’re so pale, pretty Faerlamore, I forgot you were injured. Let’s get you into a bed.”

The fog in Jaejoong’s brain is so thick he can’t keep his eyes open, darkness the only thing that relieves the pressure of his headache and his suffocation. But he can’t sleep, wired with nerves as he plans out his speech, knowing sooner or later Yunho will be done with his duties and will come to check on him. And then he’s going to say it. He’s pretty sure Yunho can’t revoke Jaejoong’s status, but even if he can, he has decided that it’s worth the risk. He’s not going to be like this for years: fucking his master and unable to tell him how he really feels.

No, thank you.

Yunho does eventually come to see him, slipping off layers of clothing before getting into the bed. Jaejoong folds into him almost immediately, tucking his face into Yunho’s neck and feeling his tension melt away as one arm cradles his head and another holds him steady on his lower back. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mm.”

“Good. I was worried.”

“Just tired.”

“You’ve been through a lot the past few days. Maybe you should rest tomorrow. Stay in bed and I’ll pamper you. Have a long bath. Whatever you want. I don’t want any permanent damage.”

“Gentleman,” Jaejoong mumbles into Yunho’s skin, breathing in the scent again and trying to memorize, just in case he’s rejected. 

“Just doing my job.”

Right. His job. Caring for his Faerlamore. It’s almost enough to break Jaejoong’s nerve, but he’s not known for having a will of steel for nothing. He’s come this far.

“Yunho-yah,” he starts, after a few minutes of silence, Yunho petting his hair, Yunho kissing the crown of his head.

“What is it?”

Jaejoong very rarely says his name so affectionately, and Yunho pulls his head back a little, concern written in his eyes until he can see Jaejoong’s smile. His fingers rub the back of Jaejoong’s neck lightly, brushing against his short cut.

“I have a confession.”

“Please don’t tell me you have a secret child, too.”

Jaejoong snorts a little at this, and Yunho leans in for kiss which his Faerlamore indulges, just in case. Just in case it isn’t going to happen for awhile. 

“Tell me, then. Can’t be any worse than that.”

“I’m just—worried.”

“About what?” Yunho cups Jaejoong’s cheek, thumbing its sharp lines. “Changmin?”

“No. Me.”

“Why?”

“Let me talk, Yunho.”

He’s an a kiss as an apology and the sincerity of it all brings tears to eyes that nearly spill over. He presses on before Yunho can say something silly like _please don’t cry_. Jaejoong’s sure no matter how the night ends there are going to be tears. Lots of them.

“You’re amazing,” Jaejoong starts, “you’ve been so good to me, better even than Heechul, better than anyone in my entire life. I’ve never experienced anything like it. And I’m greedy. I’m so selfish for wanting things I can’t have.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Yunho,” Jaejoong says fiercely, gods he’s never going to be able to say it if Yunho keeps interrupting. But his master shuts his lips firmly, and that _godsdamn_ look that Jaejoong cannot figure out flits across his face for a moment before Concerned Master Yunho is back in place. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m listening. I promise. You’re just scaring me. You’re a Jaejoong I’ve never encountered until now.”

Is he? Jaejoong supposes he’s never been this honest, so Yunho’s right, in a way.

“I’m…weak. I’m so dumb for _wanting_ things and I’m sorry. I know it’s against the law. I’m not allowed this, I’m a part of you and that doesn’t—no, don’t talk—I’m _part_ of you. I am you and I’m supposed to think like you and have the same opinions and I can’t go off and do other things. I’m scared of when you’ll get a wife. I’m scared that you have to have a child. Or two. Or three. I’m scared you won’t want me anymore. I want—“

Yunho’s looking at him like he’s grown three heads, mouth agape at the words tumbling from Jaejoong’s mouth. 

“I want you. I know it’s not allowed. I know it’s impossible because I belong to you. You own me in every sense of the word and it’s _against the law_ and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jaejoong gulps in a lungful of air, unable to holds back his tears anymore. “I fell in love with you. I’m sorry, but I love you and I’m selfish and greedy and I don’t want to share you.” He releases another shuddering breath. “I _love_ you.”

Yunho blinks.

“I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll take whatever punishment you want to give me. Please just—please don’t sell me, I’m sorry, Master.”

Jaejoong can’t look at him anymore. He can’t look into Yunho’s face while he waits for what he’ll say and he shuts his eyes and tries to bury himself in a pillow, but is met with Yunho’s shoulder. “Shush, Jaejoong. Don’t cry, pretty Faerlamore, please don’t cry. I get so upset when you cry. I’m not angry. I promise I’m not upset, and I’m not going to sell you to someone else.”

He coos into Jaejoong’s ear like the Faerlamore is a baby, runs his hand up and down Jaejoong’s back as he sobs against Yunho’s body and whispers all sorts of promises about never letting anyone else have Jaejoong ever. 

It’s better than what Jaejoong had expected: Yunho yelling at him and telling him to lay on the bed and wait while he fetches a cane. A _lot_ better.

“Let me show you something,” Yunho murmurs, after Jaejoong’s sobbing becomes hiccups and his nose has finished leaking snot all over the sheets.

Yunho presses another kiss to his cheek, twisting the tip of Jaejoong’s nose fondly until he squirms, and then Yunho gets out of the bed. He rummages in a draw for something before pulling out a roll of parchment. Jaejoong squints, blinking away the remaining moisture in his eyes.

“This is my wedding agreement,” Yunho tells him, “My father had it written up before he died so that his wishes for me might still be fulfilled.”

There’s a lot written on it, as Jaejoong curls into Yunho’s side, content that he at least will not be sold off to the highest bidder in the morning, though the knowledge does not ease the butterflies in his stomach. “I was okay with it, for the majority of my life. Sharing my inheritance with the stipulation of producing an heir, that sort of thing. But I made some modifications after I purchased you from Heechul. Last year, I think?”

Yunho taps the bottom of the page where a different hand had added a several lines of script. “There.”

Jaejoong sniffs, wiping his nose on his hand as he leans forward to read it. He feels Yunho thread his fingers into Jaejoong’s hair and the tiny flame of hope in Jaejoong’s heart gets just a bit brighter. 

It’s a basic marriage contract, as far as Jaejoong can tell. He’s not an expert, but he’s read through some in the archives of his previous masters and this one is no different save the addition at the bottom…

“Why is my name on there?”

 **Kim Jaejoong** in bold lettering, naming him Faerlamore of Yunho’s household and—Jaejoong’s eyes nearly bug out of his sockets— _above_ Yunho’s future wife, whomever she may be, in rank. 

“It’s there because I intend to keep you. Anyone that wants to marry me must agree to this contract and that includes recognizing you as the head of the household. You will run it, you will still cook, you will still organize my dinners and events. You will still warm my bed, regardless of whether or not I produce an heir and she will not have a say in that. Though, I am more than willing to allow her a beau of her own.”

“I’m glad you’re not completely heartless.”

“Jaejoong, very few nobles marry for love. Political power is a tricky thing, and as close as I am to Yoochun there will be a lot of women more than willing to marry me. I intend to be honest with them and they will marry me knowing what they are getting themselves into. Most of them are fucking manipulative and I’m sure have contracts just as wily as mine.” He sets the scroll aside on the bedside table and Jaejoong allows himself to be arranged against the pillows. Arms around each other, Yunho stares seriously at him. “I’m not going to sell you. You’re worth more to me than my entire fortune. I’m not mad at you, and I’m not going to ever be mad at you over three simple words I can tell you really mean. I don’t mind that you love me. You can love me all you want, Jaejoong, and all it will ever make me is happy.”

Jaejoong feels his eyes misting over again. “I can love you.” He ends uncertainly, not sure if he even means it as a question.

“Yes,” Yunho promises. “I gave you a tattoo. I’ll give you another if it will help. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I…I can tell you that I love you? You won’t—be angry?”

Yunho smiles. “I won’t.”

“Really?”

“Really. Just promise me something. You can’t say it in front of anyone. Well, Junsu and Yoochun are fine. And probably Changmin now that his issue is solved. But other than that, you can only say it here.”

“I know. You don’t want to have to punish me.”

Yunho laughs, landing a kiss on his cheek. “Not just that. Jaejoong-ah,” he raises Jaejoong’s face, forefinger catching under his chin carefully, “if you say it in front of me, we’re both going to get in trouble. Because I’m not going to be able to keep myself from saying it back.”

“Oh,” Jaejoong says, after a moment. “But then why is—“

And then Yunho’s words click in the back of his mind and for a breathless few moments, Jaejoong can’t believe it. Yunho wants to say _I love you_ back. 

Yunho treasures him. Yunho isn’t going to sell him. Yunho is going to make his future wife sign a contract so that Jaejoong will not lose any of his influence in the household, even if she can produce and heir.

Oh

“ _Yunho_.”

“I’ll say it for you, if that’s what you want to hear, if that will please you. But just know that you already say the thing that makes me the happiest.” Jaejoong tilts his head, curious. Yunho smiles. “My _name_.”

Jaejoong makes a dive for his mouth. Somehow, he maneuvers himself to straddle Yunho’s hips and press into him deliciously while their hands tangle together. 

“I still might punish you,” Yunho confides, sliding hands over Jaejoong’s torso (his fingers gentle over the sore ribs,) “but I’m sure we can find a way to make it rather pleasing for us both.”

“I’m sure,” Jaejoong agrees, nose tracing Yunho’s neck, breathing in the scent of his soap and faint aromas of the mansion clinging to his skin.

“I really cannot believe you got upset because you thought I wouldn’t let you say I love you. And no, Jaejoong. You need to rest. None of this tonight.”

Jaejoong nearly bites off his tongue and he pauses long enough to say, “If our rolls were reversed you’d have done the…exact…”

There. That look. That _expression_ that crosses over Yunho’s face. What had he just said? _If their roles were reversed._ Jaejoong blinks down at his master, comprehension finally dawning, and he grins, knowing full well it’s a bit crazy looking. “Jung Yunho.”

“Jaejoong,” Yunho warns. It’s not going away. That confounding expression that is a lot less confusing than it had been a second ago is sinking deeper into Yunho’s face as Jaejoong leans down, and it’s spreading out into Yunho’s shoulders in the form of tense obedience that sends a jolt of interest straight to Jaejoong’s cock.

“Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong purrs, feeling a little thrill. He decides to test his theory, sliding his fingers down Yunho’s arms and trapping his hands on the bed. “It’s been driving me crazy but I think I just figured it out.”

“Careful, Jaejoong.” But there’s no heat. No actual order.

“Yunho-yah. Do you want someone to order you around?” Yunho doesn’t have to say anything. His apprehensive expression and the way Jaejoong can quite suddenly feel Yunho’s cock pressing against him is answer enough. “You do,” Jaejoong whispers, awed. “All those things you’ve done to me. All the times you tied me up and gagged me with whatever you could find, all the times you’ve hauled me over your lap and made my ass and thighs red, all the times I’ve knelt at your feet and licked sauces from your fingers and had to listen to your order of keeping perfectly still…you wanted that, didn’t you? You want someone to do that to you. You _fantasize_ , don’t you, Master? That’s why you’ve never had a lot of body slaves. They’ve never given you what you wanted.”

Yunho meets his eyes, swallows carefully and Jaejoong can feel Yunho’s breath feather across his face. “No,” he shakes his head, “I’ve never _trusted_ them enough.”

Jaejoong’s heart is going to shatter his rib cage. “Do you trust me?” It’s not just about Yunho’s _fantasies_ and they both know that. It’s about everything. It’s about _them_.

“Yes,” Yunho says, “and I love you.”

It’s strange to Jaejoong that, after he lowers his head to kiss Yunho, it doesn’t go any farther than the one kiss. But in retrospect, as he lays in Yunho’s arms and starts to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing and the rub of his thumb on Jaejoong’s shoulder, it makes sense. Sex has always been Master and Faerlamore to them. This _feelings_ thing is something they’re going to have to figure out without confusing it with their social statuses. They’re going to have to redefine what their touching means, redefine what their kissing means. It won’t take long—in fact Jaejoong intends to wake in the morning and immediately put his mouth on Yunho’s cock like he normally does—but they’ve had enough for one night. He’s still hurt, technically, still a little dizzy, though it’s mostly from all these emotions.

“Go to sleep,” Yunho sighs, poking his cheek. “I can hear you thinking.”

“Sorry. A lot to think about.”

“We can talk tomorrow. Plenty of time for that. Rest, Jaejoong.”

“I will.”

He’s about to nod off, when he jerks, suddenly. One, horrified, thought circling in his brain.

“Mmmhmng. Jaejoong. Honestly. What is wrong?”

Jaejoong looks up, grimacing. “Junsu. Junsu is going to laugh himself silly.”

“So will Yoochun. _Changmin_ is going to laugh at us. Probably for weeks. _Go to sleep_ or I swear to the gods you’ll regret it.”

“Will I?” Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. But _the expression_ does not appear and he withers under Yunho’s glare. So that’s going to take some practice. “I’ll sleep. Going to sleep. Right now.”

“Good.”

“Yunho?”

“ _What_?”

“I love you.” He kisses Yunho’s jaw quickly, too afraid to see the expression on Yunho’s face. But he doesn’t need to see it, Yunho’s laugh rumbling through his chest and his arms pulling Jaejoong’s closer. 

Jaejoong falls asleep to that, finally feeling secure for the first time in his entire life.


End file.
